


A wife’s duties

by imera



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-28
Updated: 2019-03-28
Packaged: 2019-12-25 13:24:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18262184
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imera/pseuds/imera
Summary: No servants are able to tend to Tyring as he has a fever and a bad temper. Determined to try and be a better wife Sansa decides to give it a try.





	A wife’s duties

A young maiden ran out of Sansa’s new bed room, hands covering her face as tears pouring down on the floor. 

“DON’T COME BACK YOU WENCH!” Tyrion barked before there was a loud sound of something crashing against the wall before falling on the floor and rolling around. From previous experience it was either a pitcher, or the chamberpot. Her first thought was to go and find another servant who could care for him, only to change her mind when she thought of all the servants that had tried, but failed.

A wife’s duties was to make sure her husband was being cared for, even if the marriage was arranged. Deciding to take the matter into her own hands was the easiest part, she also needed to figure out what to do next. Sansa thought back to her mother, wondering what she did whenever her father was ill.

It was hard to think about her mother and not remember everything good she had before Joffrey walked into her life, before he swept her off her feet and made her dream of a life as a princess, and before he crushed her. Sansa knew that focusing on those memories would not help her situation so she pushed the sorrow out of her mind and tried to remember what her mother did whenever her father was ill. She could remember her taking care of him often, but as far as she knew her father was rarely sick. 

Taking a deep breath she entered the room, prepared to jump out of the way in case he threw something at her.

The curtains were drawn, and based on the smell she guessed the windows hadn’t been opened since he stopped getting out of bed. It was tempting to leave, but it was her duty to tend to him even though she found it disgusting.

Taking another deep breath she hoped the nausea she felt would release its grip on her so she could do her duties. She took a step towards the bed where Tyrion lay, trying to gain some courage for what she would have to do next.

The scar across his face made his face look even more twisted than normal. “Get out,” he growled.

If she hadn’t decided to be a better wife she would have left. “You need care,” she said.

“Do me a favour and go out and find me a whore instead, they know how to take care of me better than those weak creatures you keep sending to take care of me. At least a whore can take care of all my needs.”

“Your vulgar behaviour won’t affect me this time. You’ve made every single servant I convinced to help you cry, I demand that you behave yourself.”

“Look at you, acting like you’re a woman.” 

“I am a woman,” Sansa snapped, finding it slightly harder to stay in the same room as him. 

“Barely. You might have bled, but you’ll remain a girl until the day you welcome a man into your bed.” 

Sansa kept repeating to herself that he only wanted to scare her, like he did with the servants. Unfortunately for him his rudeness brought out the Stark in her, and she would show him just how determined a Stark could be. Walking over to the closed curtains she pulled them apart.

Tyrion screamed as bright light filled the room. “Close the curtains!” he shrieked. Turning she stared at his small form in the bed. Standing so far away he almost looked like a child. “Didn’t you hear me?” 

“I’m your wife, it’s my duty to-“ 

“Spare me. We might have been wedded but you know just like I do that we’re no man and wife.”

“Do you know what my house motto is?” she asked loudly. 

“What are you talking about? Of course I know what your motto is, it’s been shoved down my throat since I was born.” He pulled the sheets tighter around himself. “Winter is coming, there, happy?” 

“That’s the motto of my father, and while I am a Stark I’m also a Tully, and do you know what their motto is?” 

“Family, duty, honour.” To her disappointment his tone was rather bored. 

“Seeing as we are family, even if it is against both our wills, I have a duty towards you.”

“A duty you’re not bound to keep,” he muttered aggressively. 

She opened the windows before returning to the bed. Sansa noticed the sweat on his skin glistened as she moved closer, she felt the desire to turn away but stopped herself from doing something as foolish, especially as she was trying to convince him that she wasn’t a child any longer. “It’s my duty to tend to you.” 

She reached for the cloth that floated the small washbowl next to the bed. After squeezing most of the water out of the cloth, she sat down next to him on the bed. 

“Go,” he ordered. 

“I won’t leave you.”

Tyrion stopped protesting as she slowly cleaning the sweat off his forehead, then his hands, knowing it was important to keep them clean. Sansa didn’t know much about taking care of another person, she didn’t even tend to her siblings when they were ill, but her parents taught her to try her best even though it wasn’t something she excelled in.

When she finished cleaning his face and hands she went out to find something for him to eat as she he’d refused to eat ever since he first became ill.

As she left him she thought about what just happened. Up until the moment she decided to be a good wife she feared her life would be dreadful. Now that she had proven not only to herself, but also to Tyrion, that she wouldn’t give up as easily she couldn’t help the soft smile that spread across her lips, certain her life would be slightly better. They might never truly be husband and wife but being friends didn’t sound too bad.


End file.
